CHAPTER XXIII
How good it was to be free! How beautiful the country was! Neverbefore had I seen how graceful is the tracery of bare boughs againstthe sky, or what loveliness there is in a snowdrift, or what grandeurin a wide white prospect. To swing my legs, and to hear the crunch ofthe snow under my feet, were pure delight, and I turned off the causeyagain and again, to try the strength of the ice on the marsh, like anurchin just let out of school. In sheer wantonness, I threw a snowballat a solemn heron, who stood in a place where the ice had been broken,and laughed to see him start and flap sulkily away. I shouted greetingto every reed-cutter I passed within hail, and the men looked up fromtheir work and stared as at some wandering madman.
By the time I reached Belshaw I had sobered down a little, but sanglustily as I walked, and the noise brought John out in no smallamazement.
"What hallooing and what stir is this to-day?" he cried, as he came tomeet me. "Why, man alive! what is the meaning of this? Here are wescribbling petitions to this and that great one of the earth, sendingpost-haste to Lincoln and London, and Lord knows where, and making suchpitiful dole over the pining captive as never was, and behold him asmerry as a cricket! Hast broken prison? Burned down Castle Mulgrave?The answer, quick, before I burst with curiosity."
By this he had both my hands in his.
"'Tis very simple; the young earl gave me my liberty."
"And not too much for him to give thee for his earldom; though whetherhe be wise to pay his debt so quickly--well, that's no matter to us."
"What is your news?" I asked.
"That you shall hear over a turf fire with a cup of mulled claret atyour lips or in your fist; not here, where we are like to freeze."
Within an hour I had heard of my friends and their efforts on mybehalf, while I had been in durance, which I need not here set down.
John dashed my spirits no little by his account of Mr. Ulceby'saffairs, who had trusted overmuch in the honour and prosperity of onewith whom he had large dealings, now become bankrupt, so that there wasfear his own business might be ruined.
"Whatever be the upshot," said he, "there can be no present question ofyour entering his service, and, so far as you are concerned, I amcontent it should be so. As well cage a swallow, or try to keep salmonin a pond, as to pen you in a counting-house. We must cast about forsome likelier means to push your fortune. What say you to offering ourswords to the King of Sweden in his war against the Poles? I haveacquaintance with some of his officers, who would be more than willingto take two such soldiers of fortune."
"You would go?"
"That would I gladly. And we are comrades, not to be parted, until youare Benedick, the married man."
I took a little time to think before I gave answer, for I doubtedwhether my small store of valuables would sell for as much as wouldprovide a soldier's outfit and pay my passage to Sweden. Then I had myhorse's keep to think on. He had been stabled, fed, and exercised atBelshaw this long time.
"That cloudy brow says you lack the wherewithal, I suppose. Surely, Ineed not say 'my purse, my person, my extremest means, lie open to youroccasions.' And while I have lain here, my money has grown to a heapthat will take some spending. 'Tis a kindness to help me, for a sortof miserliness has been creeping on me of late."
I laughed at this, but John would have it that 'twas no laughing matter.
"As soon as a heap of gold is big enough to hide one of Satan's imps,there he lurks like a wood-louse under a stone, and whenever you go totake a piece, he whispers, 'Don't minish the pile, but make it bigger;dear brother devil, do.' And he can find fifty diabolical reasons whyyou should."
After more talk of this kind, we fell into serious debate, of which theconclusion was, that we should enter the Swedish army with what speedwe might; so, leaving John to do what was necessary, I rode to Crowle,rejoicing to be again astride my gallant Trueboy, who gave every sign ahorse can make that he was as well pleased as I.
How my good aunt received me, I lack words to describe. She threwherself into my arms, clasped my neck, and then held me off to look atmy face, and wept and laughed and wept again, and in spite of hersobbing and choking, spoke faster than I ever heard her do before orsince.
"My poor, dear Frank, to think you were alive and well, or at leastalive, while I was breaking my heart over your death! And the money Iwasted in mourning! Not that I grudge it, now you are safe and sound.And Graves spoke so beautifully of you in his sermon, so much morehopeful you were in heaven than one expected from him, that I criedlike a child in church! And all the time you were in the hands oftormentors! And of all men in the world, that addle-pated Canon Fellmust be here, when you came, seeking a friend in need! Never againdoes the man cross the threshold of my house. And you were thrust intoa vile prison among thieves and murderers. Well, we must be thankfulyou didn't die of gaol-fever. 'Reckon every misery you miss as amercy,' Graves often says; but you have missed few, I am sure. How Iwant to see the dear, good man who delivered you! And now, they tellme, he is likely to come to want; truly the ways of Providence arestrange, and not all the sermons in the world will convince me they arenot. And Lord Sheffield had a hand in the mangling of your dear face.I shall never believe in man again. But, Frank, how did you escape? Ihad clean forgotten in the joy of seeing you. How have you got out ofCastle Mulgrave? Perhaps they are pursuing you, while I am gabblinglike the foolish old woman I am."
"Not so, auntie. The young earl set me free this morning."
"God bless him! This morning, did you say? And now it is nearsupper-time. You must be starving."
The kind soul did not stay to listen to my protestations, but flew toher kitchen to hasten supper.
Over that meal, which we had by our two selves, the vicar being away ata meeting of clergymen, my aunt told me the contents of a letter whichshe had received from my father, or part of the contents. The lettershe did not show me. He wrote from Amsterdam, whence he purposed to goto Venice and the East, saying that a Dutch gentleman, with whom he hadmade acquaintance, and who had done him service with the Stadtholder,turned out to be Doctor Goel, and the doctor had informed him I wasstill alive, and of all he knew concerning my affairs, which did not gofurther than that I was in hiding. My father took shame to himself forhaving been so easily deceived as to my death, and wrote remorsefullyof my mischance and suffering, and bade my aunt convey to me hisforgiveness.
I thought his letter somewhat less than fatherly, even in my aunt'saccount, but I said nothing. She read my silence.
"Bear in mind, Frank, that your father has been hurt in the tenderestpart of him--his pride. All his life he has been looked up to as thechief man in the Isle, barring the nobility, and he was confident ofcarrying all before him against Vermuijden and the King himself. Andhe has utterly failed. To such a man as he is, that is tenfold morebitter than death. Doubtless, he thinks he would have won the day, ifyou had fallen in with his plans."
My aunt desired a full relation of my adventures, and asked manyquestions, so that it was late when I retired. (She sat up to wait thecoming of her husband.) I found a cheerful fire in my bedroom, andsome hot elderberry wine ready for my drinking, which was better stuffthan some I have paid for as wine of Oporto. And then I crept to bed,a feather-bed, with abundant covering, such as I had not lain in formany weeks, and fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.
My aunt made great outcry against my going soldiering in foreignservice. She had a score of plans for me which she thought better thanpursuit of fortune through cannon smoke and the perils of war; and, inher anxiety to keep me at home, declared I might become barrister, orphysician, or clerk in holy orders; and when I showed some wonder ather new estimation of my talents, she was constrained to defend heropinion by disparaging the parts and learning necessary to lawyers,doctors, and divines. She dared to say one might become a sergeant bydint of brazen face and ready tongue; or win repute as doctor by sayinglittle, and shaking one's head wisely. And
she even made bold to saythat, in her judgment, the less Greek and Latin a clergyman had thebetter. To such arguments I could find no answer, save that I knew Iwas fit for nothing but to be a plain country gentleman, and since thatwas denied me, to turn soldier.
We had plenty of leisure to discuss the matter, for it was not untilafter Christmas that John heard from his Swedish friends, assuring usof welcome. In the meantime I had little to do. I wrote a long letterto my love, who replied, agreeing with me, though sorrowfully, thatsoldiership was my best occupation.
Mr. Ulceby's affairs were in so much confusion, as he told me, when Ipaid him a visit, that he knew not in the least how they would turnout; and all I could understand, from the account he gave me, was thattwo or three thousand pounds would straighten them. It was greatcomfort to him that no man doubted his integrity, or even much impugnedhis prudence; for many other merchants had fully trusted the man bywhom he had been deceived. John Drury had given him no smallconsolation, finding where and when his son had died; learning from thelabourer's wife, who nursed him, that the young man had spoken of hissin against his father with shame and penitence.
"So, I confidently trust," said the good old man, "that the Father inheaven is not less forgiving than the unworthy one on earth."
In this time of waiting, I took opportunity to see my friend DickPortington, and found him at first somewhat dry and cold; but he cameby degrees to a more cordial manner, and at last let me into the secretof the change which had come over him.
"Hast no grudge against me, Frank?"
"What grudge can I have against thee? It passes my wit to guess."
"For one thing, I am to be master of thy inheritance."
"It comes to thee, I suppose, as the dower of thy bride? What offencecan that be to me?"
"Thou might'st have had it, if the lady could have been brought tofavour thy suit. Can'st be friendly with thy rival?"
"Can give thee joy of thy success, man, and dance at thy wedding, if Iam invited, and not too far away to come to it."
After that we were on the old terms for the while, and had good sporttogether among the half-duck and mussel-duck which abounded atTudworth. Dick did me the kindness to take Luke into his service forthe time, who had come to me at the vicarage in hope to be employed;but there was no work for him, and I had no right to burden the vicarwith another idler's maintenance.
When, at length, John received letters from Sweden, I went to takefarewell of Bess, who remained with her father and grandmother in acottage on the east of Belton; the rest of the tribe having gone, aswas their custom at this time of the year, to Nottingham. When Ientered the house, the grandmother, looking fearfully old and wrinkled,was cowering over the fire, and Bess sat opposite her, doing some kindof sewing. The aged crone turned her head, and, seeing me, began tolaugh, jabbering in her gipsy tongue, as if to bid me welcome, andwould have risen, but Bess gently forced her back into her seat. Thismightily incensed the old woman, and she chattered and screamed inanger at Bess, beckoning me to come nearer. As I stood, unable tocomprehend all this, Bess said to me--
"Go outside, and I will come to you when she is pacified."
In a little time she appeared.
"Poor Grannie takes you for her husband, who left her in her youth, andwent back to his own people."
"His own people?" I echoed.
"He was a gentile who joined our tribe and took the name of Boswell.What his name was, or whence he came, I know not, for Grannie had grownfeeble in mind with age, before I heard anything of the story; but myfather has brooded on it for years, and persuaded himself that hisfather was some one of note and wealth, and the marriage lawful, and hehimself the heir by right to an estate. He has some papers andtrinkets by which he sets great store, as proofs of his notion. 'Tishis belief that if he had money wherewith to fee lawyers, he might oustsome man now in wrongful possession of his place and property."
"Is this all you know, Bess?"
"All, except Grannie's name for her faithless husband. She calls him'Harry.'"
While Bess was speaking I recalled to mind a tale of my grandfatherHenry Vavasour, which Mr. Butharwick had told me; how he had left hometo wander with the gipsies for some years, a very mad-cap, full ofpranks, and returned to his proper station on his father's death.Could it be that the gipsy-girl and I were cousins, and she, perchance,by right the mistress of Temple Belwood? I knew that my likeness to mygrandfather had struck some who knew him. Was the old woman notaltogether crazy, but only forgetful of the lapse of time?
"Suppose your father's fancy should be true, Bess, and you the heiressof some rich man, or noble of the land."
Bess laughed. "I give no credent ear to the dream; and if it shouldcome true, the gentile might remain undisturbed for me. I love thetent--even now I choke for air inside cottage walls."
"But a mansion, Bess, a house like Temple, say."
"So much the more a prison, room within room, and the life a slavery tobells and striking clocks, a dull round of doing the same thing at thesame hour. I suffocate to think of it."
"There are comforts and conveniencies, Bess."
"You think them so because custom makes them necessary. You shutyourselves in a stuffy chamber and heap blankets and sheets on you, forit is bedtime, whether you are drowsy or not; whether the night bedull, or more splendid than the day. To rest, when you are weary, onsweet smelling heather, lulled by the still noises of the night, thewind in the grass, the cries of night-birds, the faint sound of movingwater--is not to your liking. How should it be, when you have nottried it? Or to roam, the night through, under a sky shining withstars, when the trees have donned their robes of lovely mist, and thecreatures which are afraid of man are abroad, the beasts and birds andcreeping and flying things that love the dark, hold stillness of thenight; what do you know of this, you who are never out in the dusk,except to kill, or to hurry from this house to that?"
"Not so delightsome in midwinter, methinks."
"If there is anything on earth more gay and glorious than a ramble bynight, when there is a moon, and a nor'west wind blows, bringing snowshowers, followed by calm spells, during which the heaven is clear, andthe world is wrapped in whiteness and light, I don't know of it."
"But do you never wish for some better shelter than the tent on thesesame winter nights, when the frost bites shrewdly? You cannot alwaysbe wandering by moonlight."
"Better shelter there is none. You gentiles have coddled yourselves inhot, close rooms, so that the wholesome cold, which should strengthenyou, gives you wheezy lungs and rheumatic diseases."
"'Tis good hearing that a tent is so healthy, for I shall soon have nobetter dwelling. Am going for a soldier."
"To France?"
"No; such war as Buckingham may make will be no schooling in themilitary art, or give promotion to those who deserve it. Drury and Iare bound for Sweden the day after to-morrow, and I came to saygood-bye."
Bess's face took on its look of musing, her eyes gazing into thedistance. Then with perplexity in her face, she said--
"It is strange I have had no forewarning of this."
"What mean you? You don't in sober truth believe in the gift ofprophecy, which your tribe pretend to!"
"I don't believe in it: I have it. We who live in Nature's bosom, anddo not corrupt soul or body, hear and see what you house-dwellerscannot. Perhaps the spirits of the dead whisper to us, I know not; butwe see pictures, and hear voices, and dream dreams, that warn us ofthings to come. Why should it be incredible to you? Did not your ladysee you in peril? By that token I knew her heart and nature."
"And you deal in all honesty when you promise rich husbands to farmers'daughters, and astound them by knowing what the kitchen wench told you?"
Bess laughed merrily.
"What harm is done by giving them pleasant dreams? But of your affairsnow? Are you taking no steps against my father?"
"I have taken none."
"Then in kindness to me, do not.
He is a broken man, and has notrecovered the full use of his limbs, since he was racked by the oldearl. He was overcome by your giving up yourself to save me, for heloves me in his fashion, and he made a clean breast to the young lordof all the practice against you."
"If I bore him malice never so much, it should be thrown to the windfor your sake, Bess, to whom I owe more than can be repaid."
"When you come back from the wars with honour and riches, you may repayany service the gipsy girl has done you a thousandfold."
"How?"
"By using voice and influence to protect a persecuted people."
"I never heard of your folk being persecuted in the Isle."
"No; the cruel laws do not trouble us in this corner of the land, butthis very year, twenty of our men were burned in Haddington, and asmany women hanged."
"Had they been sheep-stealing?"
"Their only crime was their gipsy blood. They were condemned 'forbeing Egyptians.' And just now we are being harried in Durham and inYorkshire. You don't know your law, justice of the peace that youwould have been, if you had come to be squire of Temple."
"In truth, I don't, if this be law. Are you sure on't?"
"I have seen a woman of our own tribe flogged along the streets, halfnaked, with her baby at her breast, sheltering its little body from thelash of the scourge with her bare and bleeding arms, and, after theflogging, she was branded in the cheek with a hot iron 'for being anEgyptian.'"
"Why do your people abide in England, then?"
"Because it is worse for them elsewhere."
"If ever I come to be in any kind of authority, things shall be so farbetter in England as one man can make them, that I swear."
"God be with you, your Shield and Preserver, and bring you home againto your own country, able and willing to keep your vow."
So we clasped hands and parted.